David Spedding The West Wing, Martin Sheen

The West Wing, Martin Sheen
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After your car's been searched twice (once with sniffer dogs), you've politely undergone your second frisking and a third security pass has been slung round your neck, you get the feeling that maybe it might have been easier to interview the real President Of The United States, rather than the chap who just pretends to be him. But then, Los Angeles is marching to the same, post-9/11 high-security drumbeat as Washington these days and - as soon becomes apparent - the political drama series The West Wing recreates that whole arena as meticulously and faithfully as possible.

The West Wing set is downright odd, actually. Smack bang in the centre of the showbiz map in Warner's Burbank studios, it's a spookily spot-on recreation of Washington lurking just around the corner from a little piece of Chicago (the ER set), leading off some 1920s New York streets, with an optional short-cut through the swing-door saloons of a dusty Wild West location. Every American city can be found here, it seems, and but for the 80º heatwave, you could easily forget you were in Los Angeles.

Outside the set, a line of clearly-marked parking spaces underline a form of acting hierarchy, the names at the top of the list being closest to the studio door. The President (Martin Sheen), for example, is a mere step away from his offices, while his assistant (Dulé Hill) is plainly a few yards from greatness yet. From the outside, the studio looks like little more than a huge warehouse - inside, however, the White House is brought to life with frankly startling attention to detail, even down to those black and white Presidential family snapshots that line the shelves in the Oval Office. Only there's no sign of the Bush dynasty here - instead, we're faced with photos of Martin Sheen and Stockard Channing, President Josiah 'Jed' Bartlet and First Lady Dr Abigail Bartlet. They're just actors, sure, but to Americans these two have fast become as recognisable as (and in certain sectors, even more popular than) their real-life counterparts.

Of course, few people would have predicted the success of a one-hour drama series based on the American political process, and no one could have seen it holding viewers' attention in other countries, but in the three years since its creation, The West Wing has garnered a record-breaking 17 Emmy awards (Friends, by comparison, has taken eight years to collect just three) and is now shown the world over.

Right now, filming is underway for the third season of the show, and the (already-cramped) set has become a veritable ant-farm, with cast and crew buzzing through from room to room. Stockard Channing, having just been summoned to a quick read-through, catches me admiring the president's photos. "You're interviewing Martin?" she asks. "Oh he's wonderful," she beams. "I keep saying that about him in interviews, his ears must be burning by now."

Right on cue, her onscreen husband enters the room and it's immediately a little hard to know who you're talking to. He's immaculately besuited and, given the surroundings, your brain immediately registers the word "President". Then Sheen breaks into a huge grin, shakes your hand, introduces himself (however unnecessarily) and directs you to the comfy armchair whilst saving the bog-standard office chair for himself.

It's been said, and not entirely unfairly, that the 61-year-old Sheen never really got the chance to shine on film, but that he's since found his natural medium in television. The fact is, you could have absolutely no preformed opinion of the man, be utterly indifferent to the work he's done, and yet he instantly conveys that indefinable quality we usually call "star presence". He's a humble man (rare enough in his trade), a man of passionate beliefs and, all told, the kind of chap you'd be more than happy to vote for. Not that Martin Sheen, despite having actively campaigned for Gore against Bush in 2000, would ever wish to step into the professional political arena.

"Are you serious?!" he laughs loudly. "Playing the President is a fantasy, a dream. But being him must be a nightmare, I can't imagine why anyone would want to do it. I wish George Bush all the best, I really do - it's an impossible job." This, of course, doesn't quite tally with some of the comments Sheen made shortly after Bush's election, comments like "He lacks character", "He's an arrogant man", "He's a drunk" and - just for good measure - "He's unqualified for office." Ouch.

Sheen polices his opinion a little more carefully now, and when asked for his feelings re Bush these days, simply grins and zips his lips firmly shut. "Actually," he smiles, "I wrote him a letter apologising for some of those derogatory remarks. I haven't heard back from him, but then I didn't expect to."

That said, his comments regarding Bush's sobriety (Dubyah was famously convicted of drunk-driving after announcing he'd given up alcohol) were made with no uncertain qualification. Now thirteen years sober, Sheen nearly saw his career blown away in the 80s following a well-documented struggle with alcohol addiction. On top of that, he also witnessed first-hand the fallout that occurs when that addiction is passed on to the next generation, specifically with his son, Charlie. Whilst dealing with his own personal demons, Sheen Sr had to take on the burden of his child's problems, going so far as to report him for bail-violation when his son started using drugs whilst on parole.

Today, and with the luxury of hindsight, Sheen knows he did the right thing. Back then, however, it was rather less clear-cut. "Did I feel a failure? Oh absolutely. And that's one of the great stumbling blocks," he frowns, "the baggage of the past. When you sit there thinking 'My God, if I could get back one day of the damage I've done to my children in the past, I would live back in the past.' But you can't. You do have the experience of the past to take into the future, and that frees you to go forward. But if you focus on the past, that's where you stay, and you're gonna fall on your ass."

It's testament to the strength of their family bonds that the father/son relationship is now a healthy and loving one.One that survived possibly the harshest test, when the father has to deal with the addict rather than the child. "I wasn't talking to my son back then," Sheen confirms. "I was talking to the drug. Now we have a relationship, before we had no relationship, because we weren't on the same page. We were dealing with his addicition, not him. And yes, that was very costly. But in a good sense. A different relationship came out of it all, simply because the one we had before was false."

His face is one big smile by now, one of genuine contentedness. "You know," he smiles, "one of the most gratifying highlights of my life was one day when I was driving along the freeway. I had the radio on, and on the news I heard this story that Charlie credited me with saving his life. And I pulled over to the side of the road and I wept uncontrollably with gratitude. I called him immediately and asked him 'Is this true?' And he said 'Oh yes. I'm actually really glad you heard that.' And I said 'Well, you know what? It isn't true. You know who saved your life? You did. You did the work. You did it all. Don't ever let anyone take the credit for saving your life, becuase it was you.'"

In The West Wing, the President's chief of staff, Leo (played by LA Law's John Spencer) is a recovering alcoholic and the cast includes another famous casualty of the 80s crash-and-burn, 'Just Say Yes' ethos, one Rob Lowe. You'd start to suspect that Sheen's evangelical passion for the addiction issue was proving to be even more pervasive, although as he quickly points out, "Leo's alcoholism came from the show's writers. If they ever want to double-check something, fine, they may come to me, but that's as far as my involvement goes."

The other, most noticeable blurring of real-life and fiction to occur on West Wing was the first series' storyline that immersed staff-member Sam Seaborn (Rob Lowe) in a potentially career-ruining sex-scandal. Given that Lowe himself survived a similar hiccup back in 1988, when a self-taped video of his bedroom manner became very public, it's hard not to draw comparisons. "Well yeah," squirms the now older (he's 38) and wiser Lowe, "I think viewers were asking 'What is going on here - are they going to exploit Rob Lowe's personal issues for the show?' but that storyline ended up working out really well. And we always stressed that Sam was too professional to let it affect his work."

Lowe himself has seen how well West Wing has been received in the UK and feels that it makes a certain sense: "If you look at American magazines, the ones that sell the most issues are the ones with members of your Royal Family on the cover. The White House is our Royal Family, if you will, and West Wing shows politics the way we wish it was. It's wish-fulfillment, basically. And there are people out there who want to see Jed Bartlet elected, truly there are."

Put it to Sheen that an awful lot of Americans out there would gladly put an X next to his name on a voting slip, and he poo-poohs the idea with a smile. "I'm not really bothered by politics," he shrugs. "I know how that must sound given the role that I'm best known for, but in all truth, I'm more interested in social justice and issues. I mean Martin Luther King never chased any office in his life, and yet he was one of the most important and powerful people in our history of civil rights. And that's how it always is, anywhere in the world - governments don't come up with the issues, people do."

These aren't just glib soundbytes either. Sheen doesn't just pop a bumper-sticker onto his car and leave it at that, he actually gets off his backside and stands up for his beliefs. He's frequently been arrested on demonstrations, most recently in October 2000 in an anti-militarisation protest, when he was charged with trespass. He's still serving a three year probation for the offence. He seems uncomfortable at being in any way celebrated for these things - to Sheen, it's just what comes naturally. "Part of the reason why I'm playing this role is because of my involvement in social justice issues," he explains. "It's about all of my adult life. I'm not a democrat by accident."

Inevitably, when you appear on the nation's screens as the President on a weekly basis, and as such a likeable President at that, people start to assume that you know your political stuff, and Sheen - along with many members of the cast - is already a little weary of being asked to comment on current affairs as though he were the head of state. "All that political commentary stuff doesn't interest me one bit," he says. "It's just showbiz, really, regardless of who's talking and for which political party. I don't want to get home and start listening to that - I get a lot more out of Mozart, to be honest."

And with the Sheen family silverware now being constantly added to with the stream of awards that the role has brought him, Martin still refuses to sit back and rest easy. You'd think at his age that he'd be content to announce that he'd finally 'made it', but the very notion seems absurd to him. "You know what," he says, "I believe what Mother Theresa said - 'You're not asked to be successful, you're only asked to be faithful.' I think that's true for everyone."

And with that, the most popular President that the United States never really had is called away for his next scene. Immediately as he starts reading his lines, you see the difference between the no-nonsense delivery of Jed Bartlet, and the gentle modesty of the actor who has just been talking. Both great men in their own worlds, and for all manner of reasons. And both looking forward to many more years of 'being faithful'.

© 2003 David Spedding [TOP] [BACK] [MENU]